THLE nitdatt it ‘aa, * coe +, wen =a | an. a bal en ah ced te eal) a ae een as | . ut ; a tb hag san y we , OB | a A Rta ‘ > ey 7 ‘ i elt pt i a , VI Cp ; , ii th \ #5 zy i \ ; Ree Ln is i ‘ b) 1 t ¢ { y ~ JAN 1'7 1929 Pz, COL agIOAL SENS sa i.) SAY, DAD! i) pee’ ae ae eight at ae a By DAD! a ee iid Fs, —. QM C3 et f fra Wa > tag TONS CHUMMY TALKS BETWEEN FATHER AND SON By // WALLACE DUNBAR VINCENT Introduction by GEORGE J. FISHER, M.D. NEw Yor«k CHICAGO Fleming H. Revell Company LONDON AND EDINBURGH Copyright, McMxxvI, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 17 North Wabash Ave. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 99 George Street Admiringly Dedicated to Every Boy WHO WANTS TO KNOW INTRODUCTION TAKE great delight in commending this book to all Dads and to all sons. It is a series of friendly chats between a father and a son on themes important to a boy. | Of course we will acknowledge at the outset that the father is an exceptional father and that the son is an exceptional son. That, however, does not alter the value of the conversations but really elevates them. They contain in them very valuable suggestions to a father on the one hand, and to a son on the other as to how happy their relations may be. They suggest a basis for a come-together. They in- spire confidence. They will tend toward lengthening the association between a father and his son which modern civilization tends to shorten. These chats are excellent because they are so friendly, so unstinted, and so open. There is no sug- gestion of stiff reserve, nor of cant. There is a fine naturalness that is refreshing. They are not preachy or pontifical. The conversations cover a wide series of themes and they are exceedingly ingenious in the way Dad brings in ethics; slips in some personal hygiene; cleverly gives some training in good speech, and artfully discusses good manners and fair play. 7 8 INTRODUCTION They are also good studies in personality and in how to get along with people. | Through all the chats there is a wholesome wit and humor and attractive illustration. | The book suggests the ideal way of imparting helpful instruction and information and of imposing discipline. The instruction is not superimposed by Dad; it i is self-imposed by the son, and that is ideal. There are no arbitrary impositions by father; they reason it out together, the boy taking the lead in applying the truth. This is an excellent and commendable contribution to the growing literature on the relations of a father to his son. It will be valuable not only to fathers and sons, but to teachers and workers with boys everywhere. GrorcE J. FisHer, M.D. New York City. Dear Boy Reader: This is your book. I wrote it for you and all the other wide-awake fellows who question everything in life, and who certainly deserve better answers than, “I’m busy! ” and “‘ Don’t bother me! ” I hope you'll get some help out of it, and a whole lot of fun. But, of course, you’re wondering about a host of things that this little book doesn’t even mention. So, suppose you write to me, in care of the Fleming H. Revell Company, 158 Fifth Avenue, New York City, and see if I can’t help you out? Really, you’ll be helping me to write the next book, you see; so be sure to ask about something that will interest the thousands of other boys who will each own a copy. Your sincere friend, WALLACE DUNBAR VINCENT. Brooklyn, N. Y. The author acknowledges the courteous permission of The Target, The Haversack, Association Men and Brooklyn Central to re-issue in book form some of the material of this book, which first appeared in these publications. 10 WHAT STARTED THESE TALKS | ' ' Y HEN you were a boy, Dad, did you wonder about things? ” “What kind of things, Dick? ” “Oh, all kinds. For instance, where you came from; how to get the most out of life; why so many things you wanted to do were called wrong; how to keep from acting like a boob when you felt all hands and feet and knees; how to write a letter when you hadn’t a thing to say?” “T’ll say I did! And, what was the sense in trying to learn Latin; and who invented baseball; and why most grown-ups were so dull; and why iron ships floated, while flat-irons sank; and why, when every paper and magazine discussed the problems of girls, none tried to answer the thousands of questions that tormented a wide-awake boy every hour of the day.” “Gee, Dad, you do understand! Well, what did you do about it? ” ** Sometimes I asked my elders, and was told to ‘ run along’; that they were very busy, or that I was a queer boy, and would understand when I was older. Usually I just kept on wondering. Some of the answers are just coming along at this late day. So, Dick, as we find ourselves in the same boat, suppose you and I row along together.” 11 OMNIA wWHY 25. 26. CONTENTS I PLAY-TIME . Turee New GAMES. . Fun witH LETTERS. A New Worp-GAmE . ANOTHER WorpD-GAME . How To Puay Kines Dopce . . Numbers Rovunp 1s Fun . More or Dan’s Puzzures . An Oup-Timge GaMbs or INDIA . WINNING AND LosING II SCHOOLDAYS . A CoMPosiITION TO Writs . Wuy Do Wh Strupy? . TAKING Worps APART . Do You Know You Know? . Do You Speak Encuise? . Quick NotTse-TaxkInG . Are Puns Auu Rigut? . . Havine Fun wit Ficurss . . How Mucu Do You Sz? . . THost Memory Systems . SPEAKING IN PUBLIC . SOME QuEER Cat TALES. . Arg Lions Cowarps? Leute . WHat Doss Ficutine Prove? . . WHat Azsout SLANG? III ABOUT THE HOUSE GeTTiInc Up In THE Morning . BATHS AND Swims . 13 17 20 23 26 29 32 35 38 41 47 50 53 55 58 61 64 67 70 73 76 79 82 85 88 95 98 CONTENTS . Maxine tHe Harr BEHAVE . . SHOES AND STOCKINGS . TRAINING AN UNSEEN SLAVE . GoING TO THE DENTIST’S . ANSWERING THAT LETTER . WHat Goop 1s A Diary? . Meetine STRANGERS . Wreexk-ENpD VISITING : . THE ART OF QUIZZING Quizzes . Arrrer ALL, PoLITENESS Pays : ounce: AND OLDSTERS . . “SHowine Orr” ror CoMPANY . Fryvine A Hopspy to Rive ; . SOMETHING TO MAKE For MoTHER . . CHoosine Your “ TRADE-Marxk ” IV GROWING UP . Don’t BECOME A BOASTER . WHEN You Fret INVENTIVE : . A MAN Cauuep “ Frxep Mr. WIx” . . A QurER KIND or Frar . . Do Tuery LIke To BE Sick? . . As We Loox To OTHERS . WHAT Is Reau Courtesy? .. . Is Seur-Esteem A Goop THING? . Tuer TRUE VALUE or FAME . . THat Big Worp “ Optimism ” . Dick Has A QuEER DREAM . . FAILURE AND SUCCESS . Tue Very Lirtie SIns . . STORING Up MEMORIES . . We Attu Are IDEALISTS . . SPIRITUAL THINKING . TAKING THE WortpD “ As Is ig . Don’t Bz “ Onty a Boy ” . SMILING THROUGH LIFE I PLAY-TIME MY DAD Some fellows say that when they want To know the how and why Of things in life, and ask their folks, They only give a sigh, And say, “ More questions? Goodness me, I can’t be bothered now,— Besides, you wouldn’t understand At your age, anyhow.” But P’'m in luck! [ve got a Dad Who can’t forget when he Was liable to busticate With questions—just like me; And so, no matter what he’s at, He’s glad to lay it down, And listen with his quiet smile And never wear a frown. I ask him—oh, just ev’rything, — For some new game to play, A composition subject, how To act when I’m away, What I can make for Mother, and If slang is really bad— So, if youre stuck for answers, just Ask me and I'll ask Dad! I THREE NEW GAMES % OW I am in a fine fix! ” | \ “ Glad it’s a fine one, Dick.” “No fooling! Here’s a letter from the sec- retary of our Good Fun Club, saying there’s to be a meeting next Saturday night. Then he goes on, ‘You're to be Master of Ceremonies, old sport, and we're depending upon you to come with a noddle full of spiffy ideas! Don’t think you can spring the same - old games on us and get away with it. We’re sick of all the charade stuff, and pinning tails on a donkey’s left ear no longer thrill us.” “That should be ‘ thrills.’ ” “I suppose so; but that isn’t what troubles me, Dad,—it’s the job I’m saddled with! I don’t know any new games.” “Why not start the fellows off with a Zoo spelling bee? ” “Say, Dad,—you’re going to save my life! ” ‘Line them up in the usual way and explain that the name of a certain animal must be substituted for each of the vowels in any word. Give them five min- utes to memorize the following list: “For A say Alligator, For E say Elephant, For I say Iguana (a lizard), For O say Orang Outang, 17 18 SAY, DAD! For U say Unaw’ (the two-toed sloth, pro- nounced U-no). “Then give out one word after another, as in any spelling bee, making those who fail go to the foot of the line.” “Tve got it down, but I don’t quite see—”’ “ Let’s try it. Spell alphabet. (Look on your list.)” “* Er—Alligator — L—-P—H—Alligator —- er—B— Elephant—T. Gee! Try me with another, Dad.” “¢ Spell Connecticut.” “‘ C—er—Orang Outang—N—N—er—Alli—I mean Elephant—oh, where am I? C—” | “Consider yourself at the foot, Dick! Spell Doubting.”’ “‘ D—Orang Outang — Unau — B — T — Iguana— N—G.” “Good! Will that do for one game? ” “ Tt’ll be a scream, Dad. We'll give the winner a roll of adhesive tape, so he can bandage up his aching jaw! Now, if you can tell me of one more good one, I’m sure I can make the evening a wow.” ‘“‘Do you suppose your crowd ever heard of Guff Golf? ” “T should say not! Can we play it indoors? ” ‘“¢ Anywhere at all. On a large parlour rug is best. To make your putter—for that’s the only club you’ll need—get a rib from an old umbrella, or some other piece of heavy wire about two feet long, and bend it a little in the middle. About what will be the lower end of it wind strips of cloth, or rags, and stretch over them a lot of rubber bands, till there’s a lumpy head for your club.” “You can’t get a firm grip on a thing like that, Dad; THREE NEW GAMES 19 and the bend in the middle will make it turn in your hands every time.” ‘Exactly what we are aiming at, Dick. In Guff Golf everything is planned to make the play uncertain.” ““T’m on! I can see fun ahead! What next? ” “ For the ball get a big cork—one that’s much larger around at one end than the other. Of course, this will never roll straight, no matter how you hit it. Now, at one end of the rug mark a four-inch circle with chalk. Start your players, one by one, at the other end, and let them see in how few strokes they can hole out.” ; “ Bully, Dad! JIL bet you invented Guff Golf yourself.”’ “Maybe I did, Dick; but there’s no patent on it. They played it at your cousin Rosalie’s last birthday party, and the whole room was in hysterics. The fun- niest thing to me was the expression on the face of a person confident of making a twelve-inch putt, when he discovered the ‘ball’ behind him instead of in the ‘ hole’! ” “T’m going to make that putter this minute. We won’t need another game for the whole evening.” ‘Oh, yes, you will. Divide the boys into pairs and give each couple a string six feet long. At each end of each string tie a pitted date, in the middle a fig, and in between three raisins. With their hands clasped behind their backs, and the dates in their mouths, each two boys must gobble up the string, eating the fruit as they reach it. Of course, those who get the figs are the winners. It’s funnier than it sounds.” “Thanks, Dad,—now I’m sure of being some Mas- ter of Ceremonies! I didn’t read you the last line of that letter—‘If you’re stuck, Dick, just ask your Dad—he knows!’ ” II FUN WITH LETTERS He OW can I amuse a sick boy, Dad? ” H ‘Just how sick is he, Dick? ” “It’s Jimmy Mason, and he’s in bed with a broken leg.” “Then he can sit up? ” ‘“‘ Oh, yes; he reads and writes and draws, and plays checkers and all that. I’m going to stay with him for an hour or so tonight, while his mother goes some- where, and I thought you might tell me of something we could play that would be a change for him. We won’t care how simple it is, so long as it’s different— you know.” “Try Alphabet Race. Each having a pad and pen- cil, see who can go the farthest along the alphabet, in writing a little story in which the first word begins with A, the second with B, and so on. Unless you’re pretty clever, you’ll be stumped before you’re halfway to Z.” ‘That sounds promising, Dad. Wait till I get some paper—now! A Bad Cat Drank Eighty-Five Gallons —may I put Hof Ink, Dad? ” “You may not! Cockney English doesn’t go in this game.” “Then I’m stuck at H.” “Very poor, indeed. Try again.” ““A Baby Called Donald Edward Franklin Gray, Having In Jumping Kettles Lamed Many—er—what could he lame beginning with N, Id like to know? ” 20 FUN WITH LETTERS 21 “‘T guess N is your fatal hurdle, Dick. But that’s very good—you’re halfway to Z, after all. Try once more.” “A Boy Called David Edgar Francis Goofus, Hav- ing Injured Jimmy Koster’s Lame Mother’s New Open Piano—er—Quit Rocking So—So—” “ Terrifically.” “So Terrifically Under—Under—”’ “ Various.” “Under Various Wonderful— Say, Dad, I don’t know any words beginning with X; how do you get by that? ” “T’ve just found one that will prolong the race— Xanthic, meaning ‘ having a yellow colour.’ ” “Whew! Under Various Wonderful Xanthic—er— Yelping—er—Zithers! ” “Bravo! But when you race with your friend, it won’t be fair to use any of those words, of course, as he will be new at the game. And try to put more sense in your sentence. After you’ve strained your intellects in that way, see what you can make of the letters of your own names.” “ Like, Dick Is Certainly Keen—” “Hold up! Wait till you’re with Jimmy, and start together. Some very interesting sentences can be made from the names of great men. Once when I was ill, I made quite a lot of them. For instance, ABRAHAM LINCOLN began—A Brave, Righteous And Holy American Martyr. See what you boys can do with the last name. Then take up GEORGE WASHINGTON, and bring me your results.” “‘T never knew that letters could be such fun.” “Memory brings back something else you can try out. A boy in my class named Foster Busby discov- 22 SAY, DAD! ered that some of our names held delightful insults— spelling by sound being allowed. He took Frank’s full name, and brought out ‘ frade cat,’ like this: FRAnk DECker ATwood. “That made Frank mad, because they were always making fun of him for being timid. Then Foster— who, by the way, was a roly-poly little imp—worked over Meers’ name till this was produced: eGbert UIMer MEeRs, which referred to the time when he was kept in for chewing gum in class. A few mornings after, Sim Lacy was enraged to find in large letters on the blackboard: SImeon Lane LacY. ‘Now, Sim had too good an opinion of himself to stand being labelled ‘ silly’ and let it go at that; so he set to work to fight the fresh fat boy with his own weapon. That he succeeded to his and our satis- faction you may be sure, when I tell you that the following Monday morning the blackboard bore this inscription in letters a foot high: Foster bATTerman bUsBy! And you may be certain, as long as he stayed in the school our tormentor was known as Fat Tub.” “Gee, Dad, just to thnk—if Jimmy hadn’t broken his leg we might never have had this fun ahead of us! ” Il A NEW WORD-GAME iS O you suppose you could think up another game for us fellows, Dad—a word-game, or something? That last one made a big hit, I can tell you! ” “Now, see here, young man—do you realize that almost every week you’re at your poor father for a new game? ”’ “Well, you see, Dad, the boys are always saying, ‘Say, Dick, get your guv’nor to show you something new to play.’ I tell ’em I guess you don’t know any more games. ‘Goon!’ they shout. ‘He can turn ’em out like flivvers, one every two minutes—and they’re always easy to learn and piles of fun. Have another by tomorrow night, sure! ’” “‘ Of course, if you’ve built up such a wondrous repu- tation for me, Dick, I’ll have to try to live up to it. I never thought of rivalling Mr. Ford, even as a manu- facturer of mental joy-rides. But I did concoct a sim- ple little game the other day, and I named it Bomo.” “ What’s it mean, Dad? Sounds like a metal polish.” “It’s from the French words, beaucoup (many) and mots (words). Bring me the small box on my desk. There—on each of these squares of cardboard you will find a letter. They run from A to Z, and there are four of each letter. That is, I’ve cut up four alphabets, and there are to be four-players. We'll turn all the little cards face-down, and leave them mixed up in the cen- 23 24 SAY, DAD! tre of the table—so. Now you sit opposite me, and we'll make believe there’s another player between us on either side.” ‘ All set, Dad—let her go! ” “You draw a card and place it face-up before you. The dummy on your left draws one and does the same with it. I draw mine, and now the other dummy takes his. Now it’s your turn again. Your first letter was an R, and now you’ve drawn a K. You can’t make a word from those two, so the next man draws. He happens to have an S and an A, so he makes the word, AS. That gives him another turn, and he draws a B.” “ Tf he’d drawn an H, Dad, could he have made HAS and still had another turn? ” “Exactly. Now I draw an O. Having already a P anda T, I can make POT or TOP—it doesn’t matter which. Tl call it POT. I draw again and get an L. Now I make PLOT, and draw again. An X. No good. See how it goes? ” “Sure I do! But, listen, Dad. Suppose someone had the letters to make ALL and SO. Would it be better to leave them that way, or to make ALSO and have a letter over? ” ‘“‘'You’ve penetrated to the very heart of the game, Dick. The length of the words you make counts more than the number of them. Remember that. For, at the close, when all the cards have been drawn, each player reckons his score according to this schedule: “2-letter words count...... 5 points, teas rf A te eats Oats Aer’ B vit ae aes Loa: Oye 7 hm Lew taees 2D) ies, 6 «¢ cc aCe Teen ee 50 ce pits ra ae t 100“ A NEW WORD-GAME 25 me ts 2 EVR at 200821145 Diva: _ ee ts SOO Fis The longest word wins anextraih i iy. ROO) etn Subtract the number of your unused letters. Four games make one set.” “Dad, that’s a lallapaloosa! I think that’s going to beat ’em all. But, say—lI can see that, unless you’re going to have the longest word on the table, or a num- ber of long words, it might be best to make as many short words as you could. Isn’t that so? ” “Yes. That’s where your judgment comes in. At any time, during the play, you can change your words to make them longer or make them more—if you see the way to do it. As players said of another game I showed you, ‘ There’s more to this thing than you’d think.’ Of course, only words to be found in the dic- tionary must be used.” “Does adding an S to a word—I mean making a plural out of a singular—give you another draw? ” “No; for you haven’t made another word. But it does give you a longer word, of course.” “IT see. And all the letters you draw and can’t use then, you keep to use later if you can? ” “Certainly. You’re always hoping to draw letters that will enable you to use up those lying idle; for all unused letters count against your score at the end. A lot depends upon how many vowels you are fortunate enough to draw. Among the four players there are twenty vowels,—but anyone may be so unlucky as to draw but few of them, while his consonants pile up and can’t be used. It’s a little maddening to keep drawing H’s and T’s and X’s when, perhaps, an A or an E would complete a nice long word.” IV ANOTHER WORD-GAME oh ID you ever do one of these word-competition Ll) things? ” “‘Isn’t that a little vague, Dick? ” “Well, here’s an ad that offers a prize of an air-gun to the one who sends in the longest list of words made out of the letters in ‘ BANGS’ BEST JELLY.’ ” ““Oh, yes; I used to be keen for such work. It’s lots of fun and helps one’s spelling—if you go about it methodically.” “TI don’t know what you mean, Dad.” “Why, if you just go hit-or-miss-it, you’re never certain of getting half the words. ‘ Bangs’ Best Jelly’ won’t give you many, anyway, for it contains only two vowels—A and E. This is the way to start: “Take the first letter, B in this case, and try linking it up with each of the others in tub BA: BN, BG, BS, BB, BE! There’s our first word. Going on, we get BY for the second one. So we know that we can have but two words of two letters beginning with B. See the method I mean now? ” “Sure I do. Then what—start with A? ” “Not yet. Take BA with the others, and see what we get. BAN is your third word, BAG i is the fourth, BAT the fifth, BAY the sixth. Of course you’ve no- ticed BEE and BELL and BALL, and maybe BET and BANT and BEAST; but don’t put them down until you get to them in the careful way I’ve shown you. 26 ANOTHER WORD-GAME 27 When B seems to be entirely used up, before starting A, glance over the shorter words in the dictionary be- ginning with BA and BE. There’s BAB, for instance; but probably proper names won’t count. Good luck to you, Dick! ‘Luck’ consisting of nine-tenths hard work, as usual.” “ What’s the other tenth, Dad? ” “‘ Generally, opportunity.” ‘“Do you remember any of the ones you worked out? ” ‘““We used to take a long word like Constantinople, or Fermentation, and list up hundreds of words from it. When you have four vowels out of the five, and a good assortment of consonants, you’ve some headwork on hand, and no mistake. Proper names and plurals and all obsolete words ought to be prohibited. Diction- aries may be allowed or not, as you choose. Bring around half a dozen of your friends some evening, and we'll try out a few words, limiting each trial to fifteen minutes. Tell you what, Dick, I agree to award the finest pocket dictionary I can find to the final winner.” “Bully for you, Dad! Only I don’t suppose it would look very nice for me to win, would it—under the circumstances? ”’ “‘ We won’t make any announcement about that; but if you do win, we’ll insist upon the runner-up accepting the prize. Another thing—to make it perfectly fair, don’t you think you ought to teach the boys the method I have shown you tonight? ” “ That’s only square, Dad. TVll doit. And if you'll let me make a note of some good words to practice on, we'll all be in fine shape when the tussle comes. Will you? ” “‘ Yes—reserving some particularly interesting ones 28 SAY, DAD! for the great competition. Let’s see. Put down the two I mentioned—Constantinople and Fermentation. Then, Hieroglyphic, Irreproachable, Misanthrope, Rationalization.” “Wow, Dad! I’m not sure how to spell one of them! ” ‘“‘ Webster is—and looking them up will help you to remember them. If the fellows say they’d rather follow the hit-or-miss-it method than ours, let them. When they see your lists they’ll reform. With the haphazard way, most persons will overlook many of the simplest words. They’ll write down TEN, and never think of NET—the same word turned about. By the way, until you look into it, you’ll never realize how many words make sense when spelt backwards. Of course, a few spell the same both ways—like LEVEL.” “That’s interesting. Couldn’t there be another game bringing in that backward-spelling idea? ” “ Easily, Dick. For example, you might try to find how many reversed words are related to the original— like red-rum and murder.” ‘Say, Dad—that’s wonderful! ” “Some whole sentences read the same both ways. One of them is, “‘ Name no one man.” “ That’s certainly queer.” ‘“‘ But the most remarkable sentence I ever heard of, perfectly reversible, is attributed to Napoleon. It’s this: ‘ Able was I ere I saw Elba.’ ” V HOW TO PLAY KINGS DODGE you, Dad? ” “‘ Checker-solitaire is yet to be invented, Dick. I’ve been thinking over the rules of Kings Dodge.” “‘ What’s that—a new game? I never heard of it.” “It’s just been born. It’s at least a week since you sprang Bomo on your friends, so I thought I’d better be ready with a new game.” “Dad, you’re certainly a peach! I was wondering the other day if you couldn’t make another game out of checkers. I looked for it in the encyclopedia and couldn’t find it.” “You should have looked for ‘draughts.’ That’s what the French called it way back in 1688, when a book came out about it. No one knows who invented it; but the Romans played a game very much like it, using only sixteen squares. And the Greeks used some such board with a kind of No-man’s-Land in the cen- tre. What I call Kings Dodge is very simple as you will see.” “ But a bully lot of fun, Dad, like all your other games! ” “Each of us starts with four kings, or double check- ers, and that’s all.” “On the four squares nearest him, Dad? ” ““No, indeed—on the four nearest his opponent. 29 x OU’RE not playing checkers by yourself, are 30 SAY, DAD! The aim of each player is to bring all of his kings home to his own base line. Do you understand, Dick? ” ‘“‘ Sure Mike! Let’s begin! ” “Never mind Mike,—and you might add ‘ly’ to ‘sure’ if you’re not too tired. Just as in ordinary checkers, our kings may move either forward or back. But—now comes the backbone of the game—instead of trying to move one of your kings next to one of mine, so as to jump and take him, you must do your best to keep away. For, whenever two or more enemy- pieces are on squares that touch, they are ‘ dead,’ and go from the board.” | “Gee! Ill say this zs different.” ‘“'There—you’ve moved one next to one of mine, so off they go. Now we’ve but three kings apiece.” ‘“‘T can see we’ve got to sneak around each other.” “That’s why I call it Kings Dodge. They either dodge or die. Your move.” ; “Ha, Dad—now what? ” | “Good for you! By moving that king between tw of mine, you’ve left me with only one, and yourself with two. Now I'll have to be pretty foxy to get past you and reach home. Go ahead.” ‘““T made you turn back toward my base line, any- way. Guess it’ll take some chasing to corner you, Dad, though you only have one king. Go on.” ‘You haven’t left me any choice, Dick.” “That’s so! It wasn’t cleverness though, Dad. I didn’t see it. Well, the board’s cleared except for my last king. Do I win? ” “You win the game, and the first five games won wins the set.” “That’s a lot more fun than the regular game, I think. It’s so full of pep and over so soon. But, wait HOW TO PLAY KINGS DODGE 31 a minute—suppose one of us had landed one of his kings on his base line? ” “In that case he’d have been privileged to start a new king on his opponent’s side of the board. Now you see what an advantage it is to get a piece home.” “Surely. But the king that gets home doesn’t have to stay there, does he, Dad? Can’t he sally forth again and help his brothers round up the enemy? ” “That’s exactly what he does do. Some of the games ought to be long and full of surprises. Now, do you realize what fun it would be to play Kings Dodge outdoors, with the lawn marked off into squares, and boys for kings? ” “Oh, Dad, that will be corking! Four of us with red paper crowns and four with blue.” ‘“‘ And four more on each side, ready to jump into the game if any kings reach home. Why not try it out some time at a garden party? The girls could play on a ‘board’ of their own, and the winners play the boy winners—queens against kings.” “We'll do it! It can be a regular costume affair, with the kings and queens gotten up like playing cards, and jacks to act as umpires, and everybody else as aces, deuces and so on. And we'll have radio music and refreshments, and— Well, Dad, far be it from me to hint at such a thing—but if you were to offer spiffy prizes—” “Away with you for a crafty knave! Finish that home-work! ” VI NUMBERS ROUND IS FUN Hy AY, Dad, you’ve been working over a new S loose-leaf book all the evening,—am I in the secret? ”’ “ Surely, Dick. It’s for you and your friends’ bene- fit. It’s to be known as Dad’s Puzzle Book, and in it I shall put the games and other brain-exercises that I get up in my odd half-hours.” “Gee, but the boys’ll love me now! ‘They were after me today to get after you for something as good as Kings Dodge.” ‘“‘Here’s a game we'll call Numbers Round. Here are one hundred small white cards, numbered in big black figures from one to twenty-five. That is, of course, there are four ones, four twos, four threes, up to four twenty-fives.” “The fellows can make their own packs out of old calendars, Dad.” ““Now, let’s try it out. The best way to learn any game is to start right in and play it. We'll put all the cards here in a pile, faces down, in the centre of the table, between us. See that they’re well mixed. As this is a four-sided game, we’ll have to play two dummies. Each of us will play for the man on his right hand.” “ There, they’re all fixed up, Dad. Who begins, and how? Do we draw? ” “Each of us draws exactly five cards, and places them, face up, in a row before him, like this.” 32 NUMBERS ROUND IS FUN 33 “Wait a second, till I get Dave Dummy’s row straight.” “‘T repeat, for it’s very important, there must never be more than five cards in one’s first row, which is called the Try Row. Got that, Dick? ” “Sure, Dad. —Ly, I mean. Say, couldn’t we have a board to play on, and mark spaces for the five cards in front of each fellow? ” “Tf you like. Now, listen. Each player looks over his Try Row, and if he has any two, three or four cards alike, he lines them up in his Honour Row, which is nearer the centre of the table. The Honour Row may have any number of cards in it,—the more the merrier, for honour cards are what count at the end of the game.” ‘“‘T see! Look, I’ve three twos, first whack! I start an Honour Row with ’em, and that leaves me with two empty spaces in my Try Row.” “¢ And one of the dummies has a two, the other has a three, and I’m out of luck. Well, now that we’ve started, it’s all very simple. Each of us in turn draws one card from the pool, and gives one card to the player on his left.” “‘ Not the same card, Dad? ” “* Ah, that depends! If the card you draw matches any in your Try Row, of course you'll keep it to add to your score, and will give your neighbour some card you don’t want,—probably your lowest number. [If it doesn’t, especially if you’ve nothing lower, you'll pass it on. Understand? ” “That’s plain enough. The man on your right hands you a card, you draw a card, you pass on a card. And you keep the ones you can use, and give away the ones you can’t. But, wait a jiffy, Dad,—here comes 34 SAY, DAD! the complication! Suppose a player’s Try Row is full, and the cards that come to him won’t go into his Honour Row—” ‘“‘T wondered if you’d see that! ” “then he’s got to pass ’em on, hasn’t he? ” “Unless he chooses to change them for less desirable cards in his Try Row. Do you see? All right. But there’s one other little point that may come up. Sup- pose you pass on a card because you can’t use it and you’ve no space to keep it, and it so happens that none of the other players can keep or use it, either? What phenr 7; “‘T never thought of that.” ‘“‘ Why, when it comes back to the player who started it on its thankless journey, he’s allowed to put it back in the pool, and draw another in its place. i “Great! Now I’ve got the whole circus down pat, excepting how you count up at the end of the game.” “Well, that’s as simple as simple can be. Each player scores as many points as he has numbers in his Honour Row—a card bearing the figure 6, counting 6, etc. But, besides, for every pair he has, he can double his score; for every three of a kind, triple it; for every four of a kind, quadruple it. Now you see how a score can pile up.” “Say, Dad, this game’s the ant’s uncle! Come on and play, it’s your dummy’s turn. Wake him up! ” Vil MORE OF DAD’S PUZZLES re AY, Dad, you know my puzzle box? ” S “* Puzzle box? ” “The one I put all the best ones in I can find, from magazines and newspapers—” “Yes, I know, Dick; but that sentence of yours would bring tears to your rhetoric teacher. You seem to be all worked up over something. Anything wrong? ” “Not wrong, but disappointing, Dad. I’ve just come from Uncle Bert’s. He asked me to bring around my puzzles some evening, and he wore such a satisfied grin that I was bound to take some of the conceit out of him.” ‘“‘He’s the best puzzler I know.’” “Tl say he is, Dad! I tried him with everything from conundrums to crossword teasers, and he solved every single one! ‘ Bring me something that requires a little brain-work, Dick,’ he just remarked, with a wider grin than ever. So, Dad, can’t we cook up something that’ll make him pull his hair for awhile? ” “IT don’t know. Your Uncle Bert not only sees all sides of a problem at once, but he’s got all of Job’s patience without the boils to distract him. Almost the only puzzle I ever knew to stump him was one of those alphabetical problems in long division.” ““ What—letters and figures mixed, Dad? ” “‘ No—letters instead of figures. Suppose that in 35 36 SAY, DAD! place of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 9, 0, we use A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J. Then twice B is D, C into I goes C times, etc. Anyone could solve that substitution. But, sup- pose, instead, we mix up the order of the letters, making them run: A, G, C, I, F, E, J, D, H, B, and offer someone this little problem: “GIF) HGEIA (CJD JCF AHATI AJAF AHHA AHEB CA 9 “Wow! I don’t care to tackle anything like that, Dad! If they ever start figuring with letters, in school, I’m all through. I never even imagined doing mathe- matics with radio stations! Well, let’s ask Uncle Bert how many times JUMBO goes into MENAGERIE with XYZ over, or something like that.” “We'll get up a good one and try to bother him; but in all likelihood he’ll have the laugh on us with any- thing he’s ever tried. What I’d like to do would be to test him with an entirely new idea. The other night, when we were all working at that hard crossword, it occurred to me that the process might be reversed, so as to make the very dickens of a puzzle. That is, after filling in the words, one might create something of a brain-teaser by cutting them apart, and asking another to fit them together again. Do you see what I mean, Dick? ” “T think Ido. Let’s try it.” ‘“‘ All right. Here’s a printed solution of a good one in last night’s paper. Don’t look at it. Ill cut it up MORE OF DAD’S PUZZLES 37 so that you'll have all the words that read across, and give them to you with the definitions of the words read- ing down. You’re to guess the downward words from their definitions, just as you would in solving the puz- zle in the first place, and then fit together the words I give you, so as to form these same downward words. Is that clear? ” *“¢ What you ask me to do is clear enough; but how in the mischief I can do it before I’m grandpa’s age is what gets me! It’s just about nine hundred times harder than the regular crossword puzzle. I can see that.” | “Not a bit of it—but pretty hard, I admit, and so all the more fun to tackle. We'll get up the best— meaning the worst—we can for Uncle Bert, and hope to sit around with superior smiles while he wrinkles his manly brow in vain. Besides, I’ve another idea cooking.” “‘ Give me a look-see—won’t you? ” ‘“‘ Well, it’s founded upon the crossword form, but numbers will be used instead of words. For example, instead of giving the meaning of a four-letter word, Ill give the meaning of four combined figures; as, ‘ Dis- covery of America,’ for ‘1492.’ Get the point? Fora long number, the definition might be given as, ‘ The square-root of the cube of 4496553.’ Solving such would be an education, Dick.” “Help! Help! Let me out, Dad, before you invent any more! Uncle Bert’s doom is sure sealed! ” VIII AN OLD-TIME GAME OF INDIA Hh Y lessons are done, and it’s an hour before M bedtime—can’t we play some kind of a game, Dad? ” “Tf you'll name the game, Dick. You’re tired of checkers.” ‘“‘ Because you always tie up all my men! And I don’t like cards, because it’s just luck who gets the good ones.”’ “In the long run, the good hands are supposed to average up; but there’s something in your objection, I admit.” ‘“‘T like a game where everybody starts even—like tennis. Even in that the sun and wind make a differ- ence. But, to be as unfair as cards, the players would have to draw to see who got a broken racket. Chess and mah jongg mean a lot of study, and my head’s studied out now. Isn’t there something we can play that will be fair and square, and fun instead of work, Dad? ” 7 ‘““ Have you ever heard of the old Indian game called Kboo? It’s easy to learn, easy to play, has no element of luck, and is lots of fun. Bring me a dozen butter- plates, and then ask your mother for some beads. Let me see—we’ll need just forty-eight of them,—big ones that we can pick up easily. “That’s it! Now each of us will place six of the little plates in a line before him—so. Into each 38 AN OLD-TIME GAME OF INDIA 39 plate go four beads, using them all up. All set in a jiffy, you see. “Now, here’s all there is to remember: I start be taking all the beads from any one of my plates—at first that means four, of course; but later it may mean anything from one bead to a dishful of them—and distributing them one in each plate, to the right, like this.” “ That’s easy. But, wait, Dad! You emptied your farthest plate to your left, so each of the beads landed in one of your own plates. Suppose you’d emptied, say, your fourth plate,—a bead would go in your fifth, and one in your sixth. Now, would the two others go in my plates? ” “Exactly, Dick! We play right around, always to our right, just as though the plates formed a circle. So, while we take beads out of our own plates only, we may have to put some of them in the other’s plates. In fact, you'll soon find that emptying a plate that’s pretty full may mean dropping beads in your own plates, then in all of mine, and then in your own again.” “TI see. How far they go depends upon where you start, and how many beads you’ve got to drop, one by one. Now, you say I can start from any of my plates? All right, Dad. J’ll start way to my left—then I won’t have to give you even one bead. But, say, Dad, how do I win? ” “In each turn, if your /ast bead drops into one of my plates containing no more than one or two beads,— get this rule,—you take all in my plate (including the one just dropped), and all in any of my plates you’ve just dropped a bead in that now holds not more than two beads. If, in this way, you collect 25 before I do, you win the game.” 40 SAY, DAD! ‘Easy enough. Then, as soon as one of your plates has only one or two beads, Pll empty the one of mine that will just bring my last bead to that plate of yours, and gobble yours up! ” “That’s the idea. Only, I'll be watching your plates, my boy, and trying to head off your foxy schemes! Now, just one thing more, before we begin the battle: You'll also win if you can manage to get all of my beads on your side, so that I have none to play with. Experts consider that a much more scientific victory.” “ Say, Dad, I guess there’s a lot more brains needed in this game than I thought. It’s easy enough to know how to play, but not so easy to win, eh? ” “That’s what everyone concludes after playing a while. I sprang it on Captain Laing of the Medical Corps, who looks upon most games as silly. At first, I’m sure he played only from courtesy. When he’d succeeded in turning what looked like certain victories for me into wins for himself—and a succession of them, I must confess—he exclaimed, ‘ By Jove, that’s really quite a game! ’” ‘* Does everyone play it with butter-dishes? ” “So far as I know, it’s not on the market. A man I know had so many friends crazy over it, that he bought some of those round pasteboard boxes druggists use for powders, supplied them with paper butter-plates the caféterias use and square beads—because they’re easier to pick up—and sent them to his acquaintances, far and wide. But, suppose you play, old man—or bed- time will come before you beat me! ” TX WINNING AND LOSING loser? ” ““Isn’t every one both? ” ‘Well, I-suppose so; but what I want to know is, why would a person be interested in a loser? Any fel- low can Jose; it’s winning that counts. So I can’t see—” “‘ Suppose you tell me what brought to mind this little problem. I think you’ve missed its point.” “ Well, Dad, it was this way: The day after I pitched for the school team and we beat the Scarlet Runners four to nothing, my psychology teacher said: ‘ I’m glad to see that you’re not only a winner but a good winner. I wonder if I’ll some day be able to congratulate you upon proving yourself a good loser?’ Now, why does he want me to lose? ” ‘He doesn’t, Dick. But when you do, he hopes to be proud of you still. Haven’t you learned that it takes more real manhood to be a good loser than a good winner? Listen! When a man’s successful in something he’s striven for and the public cheers him, we like to see him modest about it. Let him show his satisfaction and even delight with the result, and we’re all happy with him. Let him get what the boys call ‘the big head’ and begin to praise himself, and we think him pretty small potatoes after all. Evidently, after your victory, the fellows made a fuss over you and you took it modestly.” 41 i Y Dad, as a boy were you a winner or a 42 SAY, DAD! “T felt rather silly being carted around on their shoulders.” “Good enough! That’s what your teacher noticed and admired in you. You were tickled to death to have been a big factor in helping your team to victory, but you didn’t especially enjoy being treated as though you had done it all. Team play is a case of ‘ one for all and all for one,’ as the Three Musketeers put it, and you felt that the honours belonged to the whole team, the whole school. ‘““ Now, suppose your side had lost. In fact, suppose you knew yourself to have been the principal cause of defeat. Although you’d tried your hardest, your pitch- ing hadn’t kept the other team from getting in a big bunch of runs. What would you have done about it, Dick? ” “When it was all over? Why, what could I do except tell the fellows I was sorry and hope for better luck next time? ” “ T’ll tell you, you might start in to make excuses for yourself by blaming the umpire’s decisions, the work of your catcher, the coaching of your captain, the support of your side in general. A boy or a man with the alibi spirit will lay the blame for defeat on anything and anybody but himself. But he never deceives the crowd. They always see his yellow streak. He hasn’t the manhood to lose out and keep still about it. He’s a bad loser.” “TI see, Dad. I shan’t be that, believe me! ” ‘“‘ But the finest losers go farther than that—they do more than keep from making excuses. They are ready with sincere praise for the winner. I'll never forget winning a tennis match against a fellow I’d never liked and who certainly had no affection for me. He was a WINNING AND LOSING A3 better player than I and lost because of being a little out of condition. The instant the concluding score was sung out he ran up to the net, stretched over it a cordial hand, and said, with all the good nature in the world: “Good work, old man! I’m not ashamed to be licked by a Gunga Din like you! ’ He didn’t intend others to hear the words, but they got around, and many who had disliked him became his close friends.” ‘‘ Somebody wrote, ‘ Games X-Ray Men’s Souls.’ “ That’s pretty good—wish I’d written it! They do. A man or boy may hide part of his real self in business or in school, but a game of golf or football will expose it quickly. Before deciding to go into partnership with Ducker, Fasset played tennis with him and beat him. Ducker complained that his racket needed restringing. Fasset then beat him by two or three holes at golf. Ducker complained that his favourite niblick was at the repair shop. Fasset beat him seventeen games of croquet. Ducker complained that his foot hurt. Fas- set gave him an excellent dinner the last night of his stay and then broke to him the disappointing news that the partnership was not to be considered. Ducker was amazed! Weren’t his credentials and everything satisfactory? “ ‘“‘ But it was the man who was funny. I know, for I was there, and grinned out loud, myself. Many a man owes his reputation as a wit more to his manner than 64 ARE PUNS ALL RIGHT? 65 his remarks. If you must joke, do so with a solemn face, and never laugh at your own attempts to be funny.” ““ At the ‘ Y’ last night, someone spoke of the con- ductor of the orchestra as the ‘ flower’ of the club. ‘ Baton-ically speaking! ’ added Sam Stuart, and we all went for him. But that wasn’t the worst. Dr. Williams had given a lecture on Joan of Arc, and some fellow remarked that she must have been a sweet girl, being Maid of Orleans. Before all of us quite got that, Sam pipes up, ‘It’s too bad there’s not mo’-lasses like her! ” “'That’s worthy of boiling oil, at least! At college we compelled a certain would-be wit to go to chapel wearing a dunce-cap. He had asked, ‘Who was the first royal dentist in history?’ When we all gave up, he said, ‘ Jonah, I suppose; for we know he felt the prints-of-whales’ teeth.’ If that isn’t the worst conun- drum ever perpetrated, I’m uninformed, that’s all. Seventy-five years ago, punsters stood a much better chance of being allowed to live to old age than they do today. ‘The old magazines are sprinkled with near- puns, with the key words printed in italics so that the dullest mind could get the point. You needn’t starve on a desert island, because of the sand-wich is there,— that sort of remark went well in our grandparents’ time.” “‘ What’s that old one about the pancakes, Dad? ” “You mean, ‘Why are flapjacks like butterflies? Because both make the butter-fly.’ I knew an old farmer who laughed at that for at least twenty years; and the one about hadn’t ‘ kicked the bucket,’ but only ‘turned a little pail.’ I wonder, though, if modern jokes are any better? ” 66 SAY, DAD! “Did you hear the one about current events being light reading, Dad? ” “Ugh! That’s the kind that jokesmiths have to turn out by the column, day after day. Unconscious humour is always the best; and some of the answers made in good faith at school examinations are ex- quisite. ‘The appendix is part of the Cont ete wrote a little girl in my class in physiology, ‘and is usually placed at the end.’ Another wrote, ‘ A dog pants with his tongue because his paws are ay fur.’ ” ‘“‘ A kid in the class below me was asked to define the word ‘ vocalize.’ She said, ‘ Falsehoods that are spoken or sung,’—and we all got kept in for laughing.” “If brevity is the soul of wit, wit is the spice of language. Without it, conversation is dull as the Con- gressional Record or the telephone book. The alert mind and lively imagination see more than one mean- ing in a word-sound, more than one side to a question, more than one possibility to a situation. The man who goes through life unmindful of its funny side misses much of its sunny side. ‘¢¢ What in the world do you see to smile at? ’ asked Vera Dense, as we crossed the street together. ““< That stupid-looking taxi-driver’s face just back of the “ Vacant ” sign,’ I explained. “* Why,’ she kindly informed me, ‘ that simply indi- cates that the cab is without a passenger ’! ” XVII HAVING FUN WITH FIGURES figures? ”’ “Why should I hate my friends? ” ““¢* Friends!’ They’re no friends of mine, Dad. When I’m doing arithmetic with them, they tell me awful whoppers, and I believe them, and get into trouble. Yet people say that figures never lie! ” “The right figures never do. Of course, associ- ation with the wrong figures, just as with the wrong people, is liable to prove disappointing. While I admit that letters are more interesting to me, fig- ures are mighty likable little fellows if only for their simplicity. The letter A, for example, has many sounds and many meanings—let your dic- tionary surprise you about that—but the figure 1 has a single pronunciation and never changes its meaning. “Three ants and three elephants and three worlds,— the number can signify but one thing, one plus one plus one of the entities, in each case. So, when you obtain a wrong answer to a problem, Dick, don’t blame the faithful figures—blame the careless boy! If you write down, 6 plus 7 equals 12, the figures are not fibbing. The 2 is terribly ashamed to be in the wrong company, and the 3 is lonely because you didn’t place it beside its mate, 1.” “T see, Dad; but it’s so easy to get them mixed. 67 ry S AY, Dad, when you were a boy did you hate 68 SAY, DAD! I’m never sure I’ve multiplied correctly. Now, these percentages—” ‘“‘ What percentage have you just calculated? ” “ Twenty-five. And I’ve multiplied a row of figures *way across the pad, and each time the answer’s different.”’ ‘“‘ Check up your answer by dividing by four.” “'How’ll that prove anything, Dad?” “Twenty-five percent means 25 in 100, doesn’t it? That’s 1 in 4. Whether you multiply by 25 and point off two places, or divide by 4, you’re finding a quarter of your full amount. Haven’t they taught you that at school? ” “Tf they tried to, Dad, it must have got by me. Wait a minute! There, my last answer was right, after all! Gee! Can I do that with these other percentages—fifty, seventy-five, thirty-three and a third, sixty-six and two-thirds, twenty, twelve and aialer “Think it out for yourself.” | “ Fifty, Pll divide by two. Seventy-five, PIl—” “Multiply by three and divide by four. See? ” “*Oh, yes! Now I’m all right, Dad. Thanks ever so much for giving me the tip. I guess figures are interesting when you know enough about them.” “Everything in creation, Dick, is packed full of in- terest. Ignorance of a subject makes it seem dull and prosy. The next time you feel inclined to pity the man who has a passionate interest in electrons or the stars, or moths or old china, or first editions or black ants— just remember that a savage might consider you loony for enjoying books and civilized music.” “Tl tell the boys that. Some of the fellows have no fathers to put ’em wise to such things. I'll bet HAVING FUN WITH FIGURES 69 there are a lot of things about figures we never think of, eh, Dad? ” ‘When you haven’t so much home work to do, I'll tell you some queer things about the number nine. Just now I was thinking of a boy in my class who had a hard struggle with addition. He never could seem to add to five and seven, seven and six, eight and nine, for instance, without counting on his fingers. With prac- tice, our subconscious brain is supposed to take care of such things, so that we say, ‘ Nine and six is fifteen,’ while hardly thinking of the figures. 9 and 6 instantly suggest fifteen, just as A and B suggest C. Not so with this boy, however, no matter how hard he tried. So the teacher said: “*¢ Allen, you never hesitate when something is to be added to ten, do you? Well, then, run up your column turning everything into tens. Say you start with the figure 9, and the next one is 7. The first glance at 9 tells you to find a 1, so as to make a 10, doesn’t it? Well, then, you'll think of the 7 as “1 and 6,” the 1 will fly to the 9, and you’ll know instantly that 10 plus 6 (otherwise 9 plus 7) make 16.’ If that isn’t plain to you, Dick, try it out.” “Why, Dad, it’s the very way I do it, myself! Tm always dividing numbers so as to get the tens out of them. I thought myself pretty smart for being so original.” “‘ Well, see if you’re smart enough to finish up your work in ten minutes,—bedtime is only 600 seconds away! ” XVITI HOW MUCH DO YOU SEE? draw a cat?” “ Certainly, I could draw a cat! ” “ Er—so that anyone would know what it was, Dad? ” ‘‘ Anyone who could read would know. I always labelled my drawings. That served not only to identify the subject of my sketch, but also to indicate which way to hold the thing. I once did a landscape with a boulder and four tree stumps; and because I forgot to write the name at the bottom, some one turned it up- side down and thought it was a cow. I added a pair of horns and let it go at that. One way of ‘ changing the subject.’ ” “Then maybe I’m not so dumb! ” ‘“ All of which is leading up to—what? ” “Well, Dad, my class is going to take up freehand drawing, and the old crank of a teacher gave us a talk as a Starter. He began by asking if we all had good eyesight. We said yes. ‘ Do you really see things,’ he went on, ‘so that they make a definite impression upon your brains, or do you merely look at them and come away with hazy recollections? Just as the lens of a camera projects a clear picture upon its film, so your eyes ought to register a well-defined picture upon your brains, and your young memories should keep such a mental picture from fading.’ How about it? ” 70 66 CE Dad, when you were a boy, could you HOW MUCH DO YOU SEE? 71 “ And every one of you declared that you see things in every detail and remember all you see. Eh, Dick? ” “Of course we did! And we thought him a chump for asking such a question, too.” “T rather think you’re in luck to have him! What then? ” j “He said that was fine. For instance, every one of us had seen hundreds of cats—had watched them walking, running, climbing, playing, sleeping. So, without training as artists, we ought to be able to draw outlines of cats that one would recognize at a glance. We looked at one another, not so sure of ourselves, but grabbed our pencils and started in. Gee, what a mess we made of the job! We had to laugh, but he didn’t see anything funny in it at all. ‘Here’s an animal you’ve looked at practically every day since baby- hood; and yet not one of you knows the shape of its body, of its head, of its limbs, or has the faintest idea how its legs are attached. Now, here’s a plaster cast of a house. Draw that,’ he said.” “You all did better.” “Yes; but most of us made the windows bigger than the doors or put the chimney in the wrong place, or something. ‘Before you learn to draw,’ he said, ‘you've got to learn to observe accurately—which is something few do, although it would be of enormous value to every one, regardless of art.’ ” “Dick, when you go to school tomorrow I wish you to go to that teacher and tell him your father’s very glad that you’re to have so sensible an instructor. Sometimes I think that half the trouble in this life comes from careless seeing, careless hearing, and care- less remembering. Every day persons get up in court and swear to lies that they believe the truth, because 72 SAY, DAD! they didn’t see and hear what they think they saw and heard. At dinner, just now, what was the colour of your mother’s gown? Now, think! ” “T don’t have to, Dad. I know it was green.” “Wrong! J know it was brown. So you see—” (A merry laugh from the next room, and: “ pets it happens to be as blue as a summer sea! ’’) “‘ Say, Dad, you’d better come join our class! ” Well, aly that surprises me; but it only goes to show Hoey few of us are reliable witnesses: At college our class in psychology made an experiment along this line. A one-reel comedy that none of us had seen was thrown upon the screen. We were told to take mental notes of the action and to write out short continuities of it afterwards. The projection took fourteen min- utes. We were allowed an hour in which to set down what we had seen. Copies of the actual continuity were then distributed, and we checked up. The result was absurd! Not one of us had put in two-thirds of what his eyes had seen; most of us included bits of action not in the play at all; a round dozen got the end- ing all wrong; and five or six even flunked on the title! ‘“‘ Get together a bunch of your young friends some night and have them answer such questions as, ‘ What are the designs and words on each side of a nickel? ’ ‘What’s the colour of a certain building passed every day, and how many windows has it?’ ‘ How long is a postal card, or a dinner knife?’ ‘ Draw from mem- ory a robin, a grasshopper, a rose.’ ” “ Tl do that, Dad! Won’t you join us? ” “Not much, Dick! Maybe I’m getting a little too old,” XIX THOSE MEMORY SYSTEMS “Tf you need something worth that amount.” “This ad says it’s worth thousands of dollars to anyone who will use it.” “‘ Well, well, Dick, somebody must be very generous with his goods! What is it? ” “It’s Professor Buncomb’s Auto-Memorizer—War- ranted to Cure the Worst Case of Forgetfulness in Ten Days, or Money Refunded.” ‘“‘ Ah, yes; I recognize an old acquaintance under a new name! And only five dollars—after lots of us, in our earlier days, gladly paid fifteen or twenty-five! Surely, mental culture will soon be obtainable at Mr. Woolworth’s emporiums. So, you have reached the age of failing memory, Dick? ” “Now, Dad, you’re laughing at me! When you studied history: could you remember when all the bat- tles and things took place? ”’ “‘ Only long enough to recite them; and so I neldi out the money I’d saved for a new suit, for Association of Ideas the True Memory Insurance, by Skinner Merlive, M.A.,—the letters, as I discovered too late, standing for Master of Artfulness. In order to test the book, my chum, Harry McKee, and I used its method to remember that the great battle of Salamis took place in 480 B.c. The idea was to link up the name, Salamis, with a chain of words leading to the date, 480 B. c.” 73 i O° Dad, can you spare me five dollars? ” 74 SAY, DAD! “‘T don’t know what you mean, Dad.” “In this way: Salamis suggested the word, sala- mander ; which brought to mind, lzzard; which sounded like, lizzie; by which we meant a Ford, built for four, but which some persons use for eight—oh! And 4-8-0 was the date we must remember. Great, wasn’t it? We thought so, and proceeded to connect all the events and dates we’d be expected to know in the next day’s examinations.” “‘ And you both got them all—” “Wrong! I’ve forgotten what I did with the rest, but Pll always remember the Salamis attempt. By the time I reached that question, I was pretty well confused by all that had preceded it; and all that Salamis made me think of was, salad. Now, salad, to me, always meant chicken salad, of which I was over-fond. Chicken naturally suggested chicks. ‘That sounded like six. So, confidently, I wrote the date, ‘ 600 B. c.’ ” ‘“‘ Did your chum string ’em along the same way? ” ‘“‘Of course not. Two brains seldom follow the same reasoning when working independently. Harry, as he confessed to me later, thought of salary, from Salamis. That suggested money—bills—food-bills—food—eats —aie. So he put down, ‘ 800 s. c.’—glad to be sure of that date, at least! ” “Then the whole idea is just bunk! ” “The idea is sound snough, for we do remember by associating one mental picture with another; but the wholesale claim that we can recall anything we’ve once linked up with a string of hap-hazard words is bunk, if you like. And, of course, the longer the string, the more liable you are to get away from the original words. Try it some time as a game, when a dozen of you are together. Start with some common word, and THOSE MEMORY SYSTEMS 75 have each fellow write ten words linked together by association—each word suggesting the next. If you’re not miles apart at the end, I miss my guess! ” “That’ll be fun, Dad! It seems to me that any word could lead to any other one, if you took enough time at it.” “That may be so. Let’s try it. Give me two.” ““ Well, say, sugar and buttons. Can you do it? ” “« Sugar—candy—ice cream—cold — winter — over- coat —- moths — butterflies — nets — fish — hooks — eyes—buttons! How’s that? ” “Fine and dandy, Dad! I’ve an idea,—give out a word, and offer a prize for the shortest list ending with a certain other word.” “That will make a very good game, and stir up your interest in synonyms; for the first word you think of may not be as near the final one as some other meaning practically the same thing. For example, if instead of linking ice cream with candy, my thought being ‘ des- sert,’ I had put ze, we might not have arrived at but- tons yet! Well, what about the Auto-Memorizer? ” ‘“'You’ve kept me from wasting the money, Dad. Still, he offers to refund it if I’m not satisfied after ten days.” “‘ Indeed he doesn’t—merely to ‘ cure the worst case of forgetfulness,’ knowing very well that none of his victims can prove his case to be the worst. He didn’t forget that! ” XX SPEAKING IN PUBLIC ie HAT’S a boy to do when he’s scared stiff? ” ‘That depends upon the stuff he’s made of, Dick.” “‘T mean, what should he do when he knows he’s going to be frightened to a jelly? ” “Look the situation squarely in the eye and say, ‘ Maybe you can make me quake a bit, you old spook, but you can’t make me run!’ What’s the trouble? ” ‘““Next month my class begins speaking in chapel, and I’m the first fellow up. Wow, but I dread it! You can’t imagine, Dad! ” “‘T can do more than imagine—I can remember. For weeks, Mrs. Page had drilled me to recite a poem called The Sentinel—incidentally reminding me at five- minute intervals to keep my head up and my stomach in. All this was in the empty chapel—but in miserable fancy I could see every seat filled with a grinning schoolmate, and I knew that on the fatal day I’d for- get my lines, fall off the platform and disgrace myself for life.” ‘““ And when the day did come, I suppose, you didn’t mind it a bit, and—” “When the morning arrived, I filed in and took my seat with such a sinking sensation at the pit of my stomach and such a weakness about my knees, that I knew my end was near. My only hope was that I’d die before my name was called, instead of after. But no— 76 SPEAKING IN PUBLIC 77 Dr. Perkins announced my subject and pronounced my name while I still caught choking breaths.” “‘ Did your knees knock together then? ” “T don’t know. From my waist down I had no feel- ing at all. This made it seem impossible to walk to the platform and mount the five steps at the side; and I recall my surprise at suddenly finding myself up there, facing the roomful I saw only as an enormous black splotch, while a horrible silence waited to be broken by my opening lines. ‘“‘ At once the pleasant fact came to me that every line, every word of that rousing poem had deserted me. I tried to wet my stiff dry lips with a tongue that had turned to charcoal. I endeavoured to swallow the ten- nis ball that somehow had become lodged in my throat. My face was blazing, my hands were lumps of ice, and two dozen daggers—from the eyes of the scandalized faculty in the rear—stabbed my back.” “Oh, Dad! Then you really made a mess of it? ” “The next thing I knew, I was bowing to the audi- ence every member of which was clapping like a pack of exploding firecrackers, and walking back to my seat with legs and everything as usual. Though I couldn’t make it out at all, everyone acted as if I’d done well. The fellows next to me whispered, ‘ Immense! ’ and ‘ Good stuff, old man! ’ and afterward a chap nailed me in the hall, and wanted to know why. I’d made believe I dreaded speaking when I could go through it like that? ” “Well, I won’t mind the shivers so much if they don’t show. I bet you felt mighty relieved, eh, Dad? ” “‘ T was in a daze about it all. I just couldn’t believe the fellows were not trying to let me down easily, until Mrs. Page assured me that I’d done well, as she had 78 SAY, DAD! expected me to. So, Dick, the only way is to go right ahead and pay as little attention as possible to your own feelings. The more you think about your tremors and their effect upon your hearers, the more they’ll possess you.” “The fellows are all scared green, but they’re going around boasting that they’re not afraid, not much! ” “That sort of thing doesn’t get you anywhere. Don’t be afraid of admitting that you dread a thing if you do; just be afraid of trying to dodge it, if it ought to be met. The real heroes are the ones who, while fearing, carry on till the victory’s won.” ‘All right, Dad, [ll shiver, but I'll deliver! ” THE FORKS OF THE ROAD Every hour of every day, Everyone must choose his way. One straight road on the right ts seen, One on the wrong—and there’s naught between. The right road often seems rough and steep, The wrong road even and smooth to keep; But the wrong one never is on the level, And gently slopes to its source, the devil. The right one’s sometimes so drear, I’ve found, That it’s best to keep the eyes off the ground— For above and ahead is a view sublime That cheers the heart on the toilsome climb. The wrong road’s bowered with blossoms gay, But they fade when you've travelled on a way; While the right, you'll find, as the days go by, Grows beautiful as it nears the sky. But from every depth and every height New roads branch off—to day or night; So each of us has to choose his way, Every hour of every day. XXI SOME QUEER CAT TALES * AY, Dad, are cats tame tigers? ” S “No; but they belong to the same family. Why? ” “T’ve got to write a composition on ‘ Cats,’—gee! And I thought you might be able to tell me something more interesting than that they catch mice and yowl on fences.” “That’s odd. I’ve just been reading something on the very subject. Probably you never heard the old Arab yarn to the effect that Noah was worried about the mice eating up his food. Asa result of his prayers, one of his lions sneezed out of his nostrils a cat—and the mice behaved.” *‘ Apple-sauce, Dad! He had only two mice on the Ark; so, if the cat had caught them we’d have none now, would we? ” ‘I guess the cat just talked purr-suasively to them. Then, we know that the ancient cats spoke the same tongue as our modern tabbies; for, back in 1688 B. c., the cats pictured on Egyptian monuments are named ‘Maou.’ They were larger in those days, and re- trieved game, like dogs. Herodotus, the father of his- tory—and one of the fathers of lies—tells us that the Thomas cats always killed their young, if possible, so that the Mamie cats could spend more time with them. He also states that cats often committed suicide by jumping into the fire; and that the family whose pussy 79 80 SAY, DAD! had done this always shaved off their eyebrows to advertise their sorrow.” “That’s a good one! ‘Tell me some more! ” “The Egyptians held cats as sacred, and housed them in temples, and made them into mummies when their nine lives were over. The goddess, Pasht, usually is pictured wearing a cat’s head. Memphis is said to have surrendered to Cambyses because he used cats as projectiles.” “‘ Something like ‘ raining cats and dogs,’ eh, Dad? ” “But in the Middle Ages, black cats, especially, were supposed to be evil. Witches had them as ‘familiars.? Once upon a time a French peasant was cooking an omelette, while his black Tom watched with approval. Suddenly the animal cried, ‘ It’s done —turn it over!’ In his fright, the cook threw the hot omelette into the cat’s face. Next day, one of his neighbours—who was supposed to be a sorceress— appeared with a burned cheek.” “‘T believe it all, Dad! Any more cat-tales? ” ‘‘ Well, there’s a Russian proverb that claims that if you don’t kill your cat before it’s seven years old, it will turn into a devil. It’s a fact that even brave men were afraid of them. We have it on good authority that Napoleon, resting in a palace just after the battle of Wagram, yelled for help at sight of a mouser. “In 1877, a society was founded in Belgium for the ‘mental and moral improvement’ of cats. They had an idea that ae could be trained to take ule place of carrier-pigeons.” “Now, Dad! Want me expelled from school? ” vy They tied up thirty-seven cats in bags, and carted them twenty miles away. ‘Twenty-four hours after they were released, every cat was back home,—I SOME QUEER CAT TALES 81 imagine with a wicked gleam in her green eyes. Cats, by the way, can no more see in the dark than you can; but they can see much better in the dusk. Now, here’s an odd thing that your teacher may look up and verify: Only thirty-four years ago, a cat cemetery was discov- ered about one hundred miles from Cairo. Literally, hundreds of thousands of mummified cats were dug up, and used by the farmers of that region for fer- tilizer. So great was the supply, that 180,000 of them, so the account states, were sold at public auction in Liverpool.” “Thank you, Dad. Guess I’d better go right at my composition while all this dope is fresh. If I need any more, Ill plunge into the encyclopedia.” “You'll want to write something about the cat of today, Dick, as well as these historic yarns. You can say that most cats seem to care more for their home comforts than for their owners; though there are ex- ceptions to this rule. I never heard of a cat’s fighting for its master, as a dog will,—but what a protection a good old fighting Tom would make! Mention the bob-tailed cat of the Isle of Man, the Spanish tortoise- Shell, the Chartreuse blue-gray, the gentle Angora, the pendulous-eared Chinese, the red Russian, and the Madagascar variety with the twisted tail.”’ ‘““Gee, Dad! I never knew the mollies were so im- portant. No wonder our Maltese Kerdudle puts on airs! ” XXIT ARE LIONS COWARDS? Are they? ” ‘Who am I to decide, who have hunted only editors? They seldom run unless there’s a golf four- some waiting. Cowardly men usually show their yellow streak in their eyes. Have you ever noticed anything like that in the calm, fearless gaze of a lion, though he’s imprisoned in a steel cage and surrounded by a crowd of queer-looking uncertain bipeds? ” ‘“‘J’ll say not! He looks like what they call him— the king of the forest. But this writer is an experi- enced lion-hunter, Dad. He ought to know.” ‘‘ Perhaps lions are of as many qualities as are men, and he’s had the luck to run across the timid kind. Colonel Kane used to tell me of his encounters with lions in the East Indies. Some of them were not eager to fight, but he never called them cowardly. The colonel and two friends once started out with an ele- phant, and after a twenty-mile hunt came upon two lions and killed one. The other, having nothing to gain and everything to lose, quite sensibly retreated. They chased him till he stood at bay, calmly watching to see what they would do. When the elephant got too near for comfort, the lion sprang upon its head. In the excitement, the lion was wounded, and the big pachy- derm shook him off.” “‘T hope he got away then, Dad! ” 82 T ‘VE just been reading that lions are cowards. ARE LIONS COWARDS? 83 “He did; but again he had to face them. This time he sprang on the elephant’s back, was wounded once more and once more shaken off. Kane followed on foot and killed him.” “‘Wasn’t the colonel ever attacked, Dad? ” ‘Many a time. Once he saved his life by heroic self-control. He had kept on following a lion and shooting at him, while the big beast retreated with dignity, after every shot, looking back as though to say, ‘Ill leave you alone, little man, if you’ll do the same for me!’ Finally the old lion concluded that patience and long-suffering would do no good, and turned like a flash, breaking the gun and pinning the colonel to the ground. Now, the lion was wounded, and began crunching his enemy’s arm. In this dread- ful position, the colonel had the grit and the presence of mind to lie as though dead. The lion stopped gnaw- ing. Kane, summoning what strength he had left, called for help. Instantly the lion began chewing the arm again. Though in great pain, the hunter again played dead, and the lion lay quietly panting beside him. Minutes that seemed hours of horror passed. At last old Mr. Lion got to his feet with a deep sigh, and slowly walked away into the deeper forest. Kane fainted just as his friends came running up.” “Gee! I wouldn’t want to hunt an animal that acted as civilized as that—-would you, Dad? ” “‘T’ve always been able to enjoy myself, even in the wilds, Dick, without taking life. It’s always seemed to me that there must be two essentials to a square fight—a fairly equal chance of winning and a sensible reason for fighting at all. To creep with powerful explosives after some animal that means me no harm, and destroy it for the sake of meat or skin or antlers 84 SAY, DAD! I don’t need—well, I know lots of ways to have more fun than that! The thought of going out to get one of those tigers that we read of carrying off children from some African village—that sort of hunt, no matter what the danger, makes the blood of any man tingle! All the messy part of it is forgotten in the thought of the necessity for the deed; just as we Americans, while hating and loathing and detesting everything to do with war, while determined to put a stop to such useless slaughter for all time, if that is humanly possible, feel the old savage blood boiling in our veins at the very thought of our country being invaded! Now, how do we know that the lion, instead of being a coward, is not just a creature of extraordinary common sense? ” ‘You mean—” “That perhaps, if he could speak our language, he would say, ‘ Look here, Mr. Hunter, what’s the idea? You possess towns and cities where you may live in peace and security. I have only a cave in a forest filled with dangers. You have powerful instruments of death, worked by cunning mechanism. I have only my natural strength and sharper senses. I not only wish you no harm, but try never to interfere with you in any way; you pursue me as though I were your bitter enemy, and stalk about with noisy pride if a dozen of you corner me and take my life. You are the highest piece of creation, and I am but a jungle beast—tell me, if you please, the answer? ’ ” “Dad, I’m going to have a good talk with that old lion at the zoo. I see now why he looks at me the way he does! ” AXITT WHAT DOES FIGHTING PROVE? “What about it, Dick? ” “You said that fighting never settles right and wrong.” ‘“‘ And you’ve been checking up on the assertion? ” ‘“‘ T’ve been passing through a tough week, Dad! I haven’t let on at home, but school’s been misery to me. You see, it was this way: Last Thursday, Hen Riggs came to me with a composition he’d just finished, and asked if I’d look over the spelling before he copied it. ‘Youw’re a crack speller,’ he said, ‘and I can’t spell for acent. Just take the thing home with you tonight, and mark any awful breaks I’ve made, and I won’t forget it. You know it doesn’t have to be handed in till Monday.’ “ Well, I couldn’t refuse without seeming mean, for I’m always ahead of him in spelling; but I didn’t want anything to do with him. We’ve never pulled together. He’s the kind of a fellow that lies about the time he’s spent on a lesson, bluffs through his recitations, and isn’t above copying another chap’s answers in examinations. He’d always been mean to me in little ways, and I thought it pretty nervy of him to ask a favour of me. But, as I say, there was nothing to do but agree; and I fixed up that composition on Sir Walter Raleigh, Thursday night, and gave it back to him Friday morning. When he 85 cf S AY, Dad, I guess you were right about fighting.” 86 - SAY, DAD! thanked me, there was a foxy look in his eyes that I remembered later. “J finished copying my own composition, on The Game of Marbles, during a study period Friday after- noon, and left it in my desk for Monday, when it went to Miss Lester with those of all the class. We’d just assembled after recess, when Miss Lester came into the room looking very stern, and said, ‘ Henry Riggs, did you read Richard’s composition before writing your own?’ Of course, we all stared at one another in sur- prise. Hen said, ‘No, ma’am, I didn’t see it at all.’ Then she turned to me, and said, ‘ Richard, did you read Henry’s composition before finishing your own?’ I said that I had, and started to tell her why, but she wouldn’t listen. ‘ Not another word! ’ she ordered, her face very white. ‘It was plain that one of you had copied from the other—but I never expected Richard to be a cheat! ’” “That was tough, Dick! But your friendly enemy, Hen, couldn’t have had any difficulty in setting things straight. How did Miss Lester come to think you’d written on the same subject? What connection could there be between Sir Walter and marbles—putting everything else aside? ” ““That’s what was mixed in my mind with the shame of being thought a cheat, Dad! I couldn’t make any- thing of it, and I wasn’t allowed to speak; only sit there with my heart beating so hard I choked, waiting for Hen to explain. When I saw he wasn’t going to— when I got onto the fact that he’d planned the whole thing to disgrace me—well, Dad, I had to grab my chair with both hands, to keep from going for him right there in the classroom! ” “Your self-control saved you from being ex- WHAT DOES FIGHTING PROVE? 87 pelled, Dick. But tell me—how had Hen played his trick? ” “Why, first he’d fixed things so that I couldn’t deny having read his composition. Then, he’d sneaked my work out of my desk after I left, Friday, and copied it nearly word for word. The Raleigh stuff was only a blind; what he handed in was another Game of Marbles.” “I’m afraid that young man’s headed for prison.” “Well, for two hours I sat there fuming, and plan- ning what I’d do to Hen after school. I was almost crazy. Then, somehow I seemed to hear you saying that fighting never settles right and wrong. Just the same, I wanted to lick him. After school, he managed to get out before me, and must have run. I ran after him, and was almost up to him, when a big chap from one of the higher classes jumped out from behind a tree, and caught Hen by the shoulders. ‘ Here, you little rat,’ I heard him say, ‘ my small brother’s in your class, and he’s told me of the dirty trick you pulled on one of his friends! You’re running, like the little coward you are, for fear he’ll beat you up; but you’re too low for any real boy to fight. Now, look here—and quit blubbering! My brother saw you copying the other fellow’s composition. Do you want him to go to the Principal about it, and have you expelled; or will you come back with me to this Miss Somebody you lied to? Come along, then—and after this, fair play! 299 “I’m glad it all turned out so nicely, Dick.” “So am I, Dad. Hen asked me to forget it, and I’m going to. But Miss Lester’s eyes get all swimmy every time she looks at me. Fighting him wouldn’t have settled things half as well.” XXIV WHAT ABOUT SLANG? ie AY, Dad, are you so terribly down on slang? ” ‘““As a steady diet it nauseates me; as a bit of seasoning for wholesome English I tolerate it; as an occasional titbit, if nicely served, I some- times relish it. Why? ” ‘“‘Our teacher in English grows pale and reaches for her salts at the sound of it; but some of the others smile at it, and even use it once in a while.” “You see, Dick, a good deal depends upon the kind of slang employed, the kind of person using it, and the occasion. Some slang words are distinctly vulgar. As none but vulgar persons say them, let’s leave them out of consideration. Most slang is just foolish, and is used by young folks who wish to appear exceedingly knowing, and up-to-date, and all that. A little bit of it is very apt, vivid and funny—until one hears it the second or third time.” “A fellow couldn’t spill a very nifty line of talk without it, Dad.” ‘““T dare say. In ‘ spilling niftiness "—whatever that may imply—I should think it might be essential. During a recent ten-minute imprisonment in a sub- way car full of school children, I heard that differ- ent things were ‘the cat’s meow,’ ‘the rabbit’s ear-muffs,’ ‘the tiger’s tonsils,’ and ‘the alligator’s adenoids.’ These picturesque descriptions of parties, moving-pictures, and so on, left me cold and mystified 88 WHAT ABOUT SLANG? 89 —though they occasioned mirth and satisfaction among the students.” “‘Didn’t you have any slang when you were a boy, Dad? ” “Yes. The perennial ‘bully,’ made popular by President Roosevelt, took its place with ‘ daisy’ and ‘dandy ’ and ‘ out of sight.’ When someone was car- ried away by the exuberance of his verbosity, we thought it rather the thing to suggest that he ‘come off the roof.’ But even the silliest of us spoke a language more or less like our mother tongue. Stupid though it may seem to you, frankfurters were frank- furters then, and a ‘buck’ was a male deer instead of a dollar.” “‘ Well, I don’t see any harm in slang.” “Here is the real danger: But few persons, after half a lifetime of study and reading, speak and write correct and beautiful English. To do so ought to be the aim of everyone, of course. Slang not only spoils one’s English, but gradually spoils one’s taste,—just as devotion to ragtime and jazz will surely wean one away from much that is worth-while in music. “ An oddity of slang, I’ve noticed, is that slangers try to avoid the use of our definite “ Yes.” Bill Harris says that he owes his business success to that one word. When just out of public school, one day he found himself the twelfth in a line of boys applying for a position with the company that he now manages. Bill was downhearted as he looked at the eleven ahead of him. Surely one of them would get the job before his turn came. ‘A pleasant young man had been sent out to ques- tion them—one whom they all felt at ease before. He smilingly asked the first boy’s name and age and so on, 90 SAY, DAD! winding up with the question, ‘So you think you’d like to work for us? ’ ‘“¢ Sure! ’ said the first boy, and was told to wait. ‘““* And your name? ’ the second boy was asked; and finally came the same question, ‘ So you’d like to work for us?’ ““* Tl say so! ’ he grinned, and sat down to wait. ‘“ boast of wrongdoing—who take pride in living lives that turn men into beasts and before many years destroy them.” “How can they be proud of that, Dad? ” “T don’t know, Dick. One has to be like that to understand. How can a boy delight in being cruel to a dumb beast? Some defect, some queer quirk in his brain, distorts his ideas of what is decent and what is indecent. But, putting aside degenerates, every one should have sufficient self-esteem to make him shrink from doing what is unmanly, unkind, untrue.” ‘“‘T had an idea that a chap with much self-esteem was stuck on himself.” “With too much, yes. Such a person doesn’t stop with respecting the decency within him, but goes on to bow down to himself as superior to his fellow men. 168 IS SELF-ESTEEM A GOOD THING? 169 Before long he’s his only admirer, though often he’s too foolish to know it.” “IT suppose the worst mut thinks something of himself.” ‘“‘ A man can get to where he has no respect for him- self. Nothing is too low for him, nothing shames him. You can’t encourage him to effort, you can’t insult him; for he’s already concluded that he’s no good, that he’s hopeless. To me, that’s the saddest sight in life.” “ But, Dad, isn’t there even one little bit of—of— something left to take hold of in such a poor fellow? ” “‘T believe there always is, Dick. That’s what is meant by the Salvation Army slogan, ‘A man may be down, but he is never out.’ Finding that something, though, and grasping it tightly enough to pull the man up is usually some job! And a long one; for the soul that has been slipping down, down, down for years finds the climb back very steep and rough.” ““T don’t see how a fellow comes to lose all his self- respect, Dad. Does it go all at once? ” ‘““No, indeed. That isn’t the devil’s way. He knows perfectly well that even a morally weak chap would balk at crime at first. So he’s careful to suggest the little steps, at first, that don’t seem to count. But they all lead downward. Did I ever tell you about Len Hagert? ” “Did he work for you? ” ‘““No. He was a bank messenger who was held up while taking forty thousand dollars in bills to another bank. The robber attacked him on a dark side street, hauled him into a cellar, threw him into a corner, lighted a bit of candle, and sat down to count the money. Len got back his breath and began to talk. The bandit didn’t care. 170 SAY, DAD! “